The Dirty Truth Behind SSB
by Nicole Prower
Summary: ...The most polemical story I've ever written. Go on, fanatics, just flame! I just want to express my P.O.V., though.


Foreword:Well... This story might be more polemic than any other story I've already written. I beg your pardon if you are a huge fan of those games. This might be hurting to your conscience. Anyways, I only mean to express my point of view of the game... using Fox McCloud as the speaker. No, they do not ingest drugs before a match. I am only using that as a factor of their anger. Only these things are what I was willing to remark. Go on, flame me if you want. I just wrote this out of the fury of having to wait for my brother to finish his battles at Game Station (a local video-game store) and stay at the mall doing nothing by his fault. Call this scribble a crazy mind´s creation... whatever that means! XD

**THE DIRTY TRUTH BEHIND SUPER SMASH BROS.**

Holy macaroni! A battle with Bowser is coming. I have received a dose of strong marihuana... I feel warm in the inside... Ugh...

Before I get violent with the cup of "The Green Devil" they serve before a fight, I will tell you about my sad tale.

My name is...(what was it?) Fox McCloud. I have lived in this pit for a good while. You know... this happened because vicious businessmen wanted a new idea for a game. A new and violent idea, I say. These men sent for our representatives. The men showed the other guys their idea. Both groups agreed to create a franchise that you now call "Super Smash". First, they caught twelve important video-game characters. They were: Mario, Luigi, DK, Samus, Link, Pikachu, Yoshi, Captain Falcon, Ness, Kirby, Jigglypuff, and me. We were put into cages, and mistreated. We were thoroughly whipped before every battle. That angered us. Eventually, they added what my torturing crew calls "hot stuff": drugs and drinks. Weed was the beginning. It was accompanied by a sip of wine... a cup of whiskey, a bottle of beer... two liters of champagne...

And then came the two sequels. More characters were added in each part. Sonic, Mewtwo, Falco, Captain Olimar... even good, weak, innocent, and old Mr. Game and Watch!

And here I am, watching Bowser ooze foam and having red eyes. Mario is also into the upcoming brawl. He just got the marihuana dose.

Here comes the Q-Games torturing crew... each of them carries a leather belt. And the boss brings a syringe.

Oh... No... They are looking at me... grinning.

OOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWW!

If my eyes don´t deceive me, I am receiving the heroine injection. It stings! It hurts! Ugh! I have feelings, too!

It... It is unfair. They whipped me. They got me high! They say they don´t want to lose the bets´ shares. My grandma in bikini! I do all the fighting and they get the money! Ridiculous. The big, overgrown koopa has all the odds of winning! Come on! Bowser has massive strength! And a proper crack, heroin, marihuana and what-it-is-called drug dose. I got heroin and marihuana... and the Green Devil cup. Green Devil is equally shared. But who knows? Bowser´s torturing crew might wish to get the winning money bonus badly, and they might "accidentally" give Bowser another cup.

I really do not want to see the bulky guy at night! I hate to say this, but... poor feller. Big guys are often the most mistreated fighters. They are supposed to win because of size and strength. Of course, we, smaller guys are whipped daily, too.

They do not even give us a good locker room. No, the dinky cages smell of sweat, weed, saliva, and violence. The only "luxury" is this... wood powder that serves as a floor. Like hamsters! No, this is far worse than hamsters! Hamsters do not get whips, do they? They have water. And food. All I have is an odyssey.

What´s that figure? Oh, it is Larry, a torturer guy.

"MCCLOUD! Your turn!" Larry shouts,forcing me to gulp down the Green Devil cup he poured brusquely.

The "action" time has come. Here I go, again going to work hard, and receiving only a rusty can of food as reward... if I win. Ah well, I´d better get it! It is either that or a plate of a weird-looking brown goo they serve us!

Oh, boy! I hate this junkyard!


End file.
